


Fingers Could Promise

by Reality 3_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-03
Updated: 2009-04-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%203_0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a mood piece... sorta</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingers Could Promise

Each nursing a cup of coffee, they sat opposite each other at a small table in the corner of the cafeteria. Over the rim of her cup, she eyed his hands that cradled the mug.

Those hands held a certain fascination as they presented a stark contrast to her own. The skin was darker and rougher, the fingers thicker, the nails shorter. Having been caught by them more than once when she had nearly toppled over in laughter, she knew they possessed strength, were protective of her – just like the man they belonged to. They could reach around her arms to hold her tight, would grab her hand to keep her close, would rest on the small of her back to guide her along. Occasionally, they caressed her, danced over her skin in front of the running camera or hidden away from all eyes. She wasn’t sure which times she really enjoyed more. Although – no, because – there were quite a few pairs of eyes watching, closely observing, her heart felt lighter when his digits stroked her skin on camera, though she couldn’t suppress the inner bolt of thrill due to the knowledge that it was he caressing her while everybody else around them only saw the disguise of their roles and the script despite him having the habit of ignoring the latter and simply kissing her when he saw fit.

In private, his touches were even bolder. All over her body, his fingers ventured, leaving no inch of her skin untouched. He loved to pull her into his embrace from behind, to hold her naked body against his still at least partly clothed form, to mould his hands around her breasts, to squeeze her nipples between his fingers before sliding one hand down to cup her sex, part her labia and tease her clitoris until she was weak-kneed and writhing in his arms. It would be a lie to say she didn’t relish his hands on her – far from it. However, the more joy her body drew from his ministrations, the heavier her heart and mind would feel once they parted ways for the day. Every time, she promised herself not to let it happen again, to resist him should the occasion arise again, but every time, she gave in to the promises his fingers made when they caressed hers in passing, to the promises his fingers kept time and again.

The sun was reflected by the objectification of her, their, guilt, caused it to sparkle and catch her eye. Usually, she avoided acknowledging the golden band on his finger that resembled the one on hers somehow yet wasn’t its companion. Most often due to the passionate frenzy, but always out of fear to forget, to lose, to have to explain, the rings were never taken off during their encounters. While they served as a constant reminder of the forbiddenness of their doing, their bearer regarded them with ignorance. However, that wasn’t always possible. When the object collided with her pleasure point again and again while his fingers slid in and out of her wetness in a fast rhythm, she couldn’t help being torn between thanking any higher being for the metal’s presence and feeling ashamed and guilty enjoying something, someone, which belonged to someone else.

They had tried to resist the attraction, the chemistry that was the basis for their characters relationship, that made working together so easy, so much fun, had tried to stay out of each other’s hands, trailer and bed but, in the end, to no avail. They came together once, once more and countless times after, drawn to each other like opposite poles of a magnet. It was stronger than they, didn’t even happen consciously. His hand coming to rest on hers as he put the mug down and started talking about the latest gossip he had heard this morning while in make-up was proof of that for he startled slightly when she dislodged her hand from under his. An apologetic smile on his lips, he lowered his head for a moment before continuing his tale, both hands gripping the cup like a lifeline.

The End.


End file.
